Moving day

Tension and uncertainty have been constant companions this past week as Ellen has continued to improve during her convalescence. Is she well enough to return home, able to live safely on her own? Clearly that is her wish, but are we simply putting off the inevitable? Ellen has lived independently since the passing of her husband nearly 40 years ago. This independence stokes & powers her turbines and defines who she is. Will she be able to relinquish it enough to fit in to the confines of assisted living?

On Friday, Glynn, Elda and I drove Ellen to Beaverton to pack up enough furniture and belongings to create a homey space for her in Olympia. She assured us she would return to Olympia without incident! I can only imagine how difficult it must have been as she watched us dismantle her little home, leaving it in disarray. She was rather quiet that day.

On Saturday morning, move in day, she awoke earlier than normal, a smile on her face and a 'let's get this show on the road' attitude. Wanting to create a welcoming space prior to Ellen's arrival, Glynn and Elda went to the retirement inn first. When Ellen entered her new apartment, she was more than pleasantly surprised. Her beloved blue oriental rug is the icing on the cake, bringing the room together along with her favorite 'Betsy Ross' lamp, annoying shrill kitchen clock, treasured quilt made by Alaskan friends, and familiar knick knacks placed here and there.

The afternoon was spent arranging drawers and closet space, running to nearby Fred Meyer to stock her tiny refrigerator and orienting Ellen to the 'lay of the land'. The staff wanted Ellen to navigate the dinner hour on her own which she was able to do successfully.


After her dinner, we popped in for a quick visit at which time she said, 'I think I'm going to be quite happy here in my new little space. Thank you all for your hard work. End of subject.'

Ellen will have her days of discontent where she will long for that which she thinks will make her happy. Our task is to help her remember, as we remember ourselves, that 'we are all just as about as happy as we make up our minds to be'.

Caregiving

We all know that the day is coming when we will be involved in caring for our aging parents...

After Ellen experienced a few falls late last month, we packed her suitcase, loaded her up in the car and drove her to our home, not knowing what the future held but fairly certain that she could no longer live alone.

While convalescing, Ellen has been compliant and appreciative. More tears have come from our eyes than hers as we watch while her independence is stripped away, bit by bit. Meltdowns occur. Non acceptance occasionally trumps graciousness. Asking to return home oft turns to pleading. Remaining firm while showing understanding, patience & love is sometimes difficult.
A united front from each of her children proves essential. She admits to knowing that an 'independent' living situation in a home makes the most sense...

Most importantly, she's come to know, with no uncertainty, that she is loved and that her continued well being is our first and foremost motive.

It doesn't make the task at hand - transitioning into assisted living - any easier.

Mother's day

Yesterday was a fun mother's day full of relaxation, laughter & good food.

Six wonderful moms!

On the menu: Glynn's smoked pot roast. Not pictured: wonderful pies (rhubarb/strawberry and apple), monster chocolate chip cookies & tasty lemon cupcakes.

Paper flower corsages for each mom to wear

Future babysitting marvel, Chloe, who never leaves Cooper's side.

For all moms, everywhere.... we love & appreciate you!

Ode to mom

This photo of my mom and I was taken Xmas 1959 when I was 6 months old. Mom was a mere 22 years old. My sister, Debbie, (in right corner) was 21 months old and in 1961, mom would give birth to Chris. 11 years later, we welcomed baby Kim into our circle.

My mom.... the epitome of an excellent wife and mother... always there for us.... home cooked meals around the table each night... chauffeur, boo-boo fixer, homework helper, good sport (driving my sis & I to the orchard @ 5 am on summer mornings so Debbie and I could earn some money picking fruit & harvesting right along beside us), camping queen, firm disciplinarian, gardener, teacher, artist, cheer leader, encourager... the list continues on and on and on.

Thank you mom for your continual love and support. When someone tosses a compliment my way about a personal attribute, I give a little bow in your direction because you have shaped me into the woman I am today.

I love you, mom.

Weekly gratitude

I'm grateful for our men and women in uniform who conduct themselves with courageous aplomb to ensure my freedom and security.

I'll tip my hat to the royal couple

Do you think I could gain access to the royal festivities if I wore this hat?

Years ago (back in my single days) my now sister-in-law, Elda, good friend, Donna, and I went on a whirlwind 5 country, 3 week European vacation.

Diana Spencer was to wed Prince Charles the next year. I hoped to bump into Charles while in London and attempt to dissuade him from his choice of bride. Surely, once he met me, a mere commoner, he would recognize my charms and choose me as his bride instead. His only appeal? His royal status meant I would be QUEEN!

The pomp & circumstance of this great event made me want to look at the pictures of our trip.

This one of the famous guards. Like most tourists, we tried our hardest to make him alter his non-expression. We failed.

Instead, we found a friend, a smiling 'Bobbie' who was happy to pose with us in front of Windsor Castle.


I have other boring pictures; the changing of the guard, Big Ben, Parliament, the Tower of London. I was only 20 then and hitting the major tourist attractions somehow equated success in my travels. Today, were I to make the same trip, my photos would be of cobblestone streets, narrow winding alleyways leading to quaint shops, expression on the faces of the locals, ethnic cuisine, etc.

I absolutely LOVED my time in England so today's royal wedding makes me want all things British.

I just might wear my hat all day.

A 1950's housewife (with weekly gratitude snuck in)

Recently I was given a reprint of an article dated 5/13/1955 published in Housekeeping Monthly. The article is titled, 'The good wife's guide' and outlines a series of tips intended to please one's husband.

It is obvious that these tips were written during a time when women worked in the home as a housewife and mother. Many of the tips are practical such as:

"Have dinner ready. Plan ahead.... to have a delicious meal ready, on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs."


Or, "Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking." (I've always contended that no husband wants to arrive home from work & find his wife in a grungy pair of sweatpants with stained tee shirt to match. But I draw the line at the ribbon...)

Or, "Be happy to see him."


Some of the tips, however, are way off-kilter for this modern day woman.

"Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first - remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours." (say what?)

Or, "Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner or other places of entertainment without you," (like titty bars?) or, "don't complain if he's late home for dinner of even if he stays out all night," or, "don't ask him questions about his actions or question his judgment or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him."

Feeling a slow burn yet?

And, the best for last: "A good wife always knows her place."

My mom began her career as a housewife in 1954. Although cultural expectations were in place which she likely did not recognize nor question at the time, I do not sense that her memories of those early years of wifedom & motherhood contain bitterness about the lack of opportunity women had in pursuing their dreams. In recent years, however, she has mentioned often how lucky I am to have the opportunities and freedom to chart my own course in life.

I feel blessed to have been a stay-at-home wife and mother when my children were young. Although I did not resemble the housewife of the 50's (who cooks a turkey in 3" heels?), I shared and continue to share the same desire to make my home a peaceful haven for my husband and children.

We women have come a long way in 60 years... along with many of our menfolk who willingly claim joint custody of household chores and cooking duties.

Although I love the crisp looking dresses, perky boobs & coiffed hairdos of the 50's housewife, I'm grateful to be living in the 21st century!